The trap of anger and frustration
Yair Porat
Haaretz, 19 December 2002
Finally, in this election campaign, a politician has stood up and said the truth straight to our faces: Yes, we have to get out of Gaza, and yes, we have to go back to the negotiations with the Palestinians about establishing their state, and yes, the budgets have to be diverted away from the settlements to take care of the social problems.
My generation enlisted a little before the first intifada. The children we chased with clubs in the alleys of Jabalya and the casbah of Nablus are now the top wanted men in the Hamas and Al Aqsa Martyrs Brigade. Sometimes, back then, at the start of that intifada, I felt like it was some kind of cat and mouse game, and if we could only catch them and slap them around, they'll go home to do their homework.
But their looks became more hateful and less fearful, year after year, and the sense of power behind the sights on our guns gradually receded. As a conscript I served three months on the roof of a family in one of the neighborhoods of Nablus. The little children shook with fear whenever we passed on the street and we used to beat up the older ones, just to be sure. This week I read the paratroopers in Nablus don't even pay attention to the rocks anymore. It's only the diversion before the bomb or the shooting. Today the children throw Molotov cocktails and homemade hand grenades, and openly mock the IDF's curfew orders.
Back then, service in the territories was a punishment. We all wanted to be in the real action, in Lebanon. When we arrived in the territories we'd take out our frustration and make a ruckus, just so we wouldn't be bored. I saw a lot of things then that I'm ashamed of today. I saw women screaming when we broke into their homes in the dead of night and blindfolded their husbands or sons. I saw little girls continuing to sleep on the mattress on the floor as we turned the house upside down looking for a wanted man. I saw soldiers brutally beating someone for no reason, and I saw the hate rising because of the humiliations at the checkpoints. I also saw workers who got up at three in the morning to make it to the checkpoints in time, and people who offered me coffee or a cold drink while I searched their homes.
By my calculations, as a conscript in the first intifada through Defensive Shield, as a reservist, I have spent nearly two years in the territories. During my reserve service I guarded dozens of outposts and settlements, accompanied buses and stood at checkpoints. Often I received a warm, sympathetic reception from the settlers, but sometimes they confronted me when I tried to defend them. I learned to understand that like all of us, the settlers are heterogeneous, some are full of ideology and feel like the masters of the land, and won't agree to put up a fence around their settlement, while others are there because of their economic circumstances, and treat the army the way we treat the guards at the malls.
Often I was posted to outposts and settlements where there were more soldiers than residents. I was always amazed at the vast mounts of money invested in the roads for a few dozen people and houses that the Housing Ministry built, even though there's nobody to live in them.
My generation is already over 30, with mortgages and children, and usually pretty apathetic about politics. This generation deserves to be told the truth. Every day we remain in Gaza is unnecessary and costs unnecessary victims. (Does anyone remember the twisted arguments about staying in Lebanon?). We must return to the negotiations with the Palestinians because if we don't, the Hamas and Islamic Jihad will set the tone, and the hatred will make the few Palestinians who still believe in peace disappear as well. We must redirect the depleted budget to where it is really needed, dealing with poverty and unemployment.
All those who served as combat soldiers in the territories understand the anger and frustration of fighting in an area where there is a civilian population, whose hatred is growing from day to day. Over the years, the anger grew in me too. Of all people, I, who think the settlements in Netzarim, Hebron and Rafah are unnecessary and make me angry, now found myself guarding them long days all throughout the year. Until now I've believed that political views have to be separated from the fact that I am a combat soldier and an officer. I was opposed to the refusenik phenomenon, and I still oppose it, although I identified with many of the arguments they raise.
But I am no longer ready to separate my views from the fact that I serve a month a year in the territories. The time has come to recognize the truth and no longer make do with vague promises about painful concessions or talk about eradicating the terrorist nests. It is our duty as reservists, tired of meaningless promises about our capability to use force to subdue the Palestinians, to stand up and say what we believe.
The writer is a company commander in reserves.
